#the larkchive

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@pangur-and-grim Not sure how long it will get to stay up there bc I've been told my funny animal whiteboard drawings aren't "collegiate" enough. But for now, Pangur has a place on the whiteboard in the academic library I run. Hope she's okay with Fortnite... (a contribution of one of my work study students ^^')

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If you need a less ableist term than "hallucinating" for what GenAI does (and you do need one): try "gossiping" instead.

GenAI gossips. It's playing an algorithmically driven game of telephone. You will get varying levels of accuracy, all of it based on human-generated data.

Someone fed it incorrect information framed as fact. It can/will repeat that incorrect information because a human being shared it.

Someone said something [racist, xenophobic, anti-semitic, islamophobic, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic, classist, ableist, etc.] to it. It can/will repeat those prejudices because a human being shared them.

Sometimes the gossip gets misheard somewhere along the chain of the algorithm and it spits out something that is blatantly inaccurate. I would call it humorous if it weren't so dangerous.

AI is a gossip. Think for yourself.

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Help yourself to a FREE copy of my book!

Content warning: some of the pieces are quite graphic, 18+ highly recommended. The following themes are present in the book: violence (against people and animals), death (of people and animals), gun violence, emotional abuse & manipulation, mentions of sexual abuse, body horror, unreality.

Description: "If you could remember every one of your dreams in vivid, blood-soaked detail, would you consider it a blessing or a curse? Would you risk the nightmares in order to experience the dreams where you could fly, or find inspiration, or feel utterly safe? How long would it take before the line between dream and reality became incomprehensibly smeared? Fidelity is a gallery of poetry, prose, and photography documenting a dreamscape that absconded from the dreamer's mind into the waking world."

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Life Updates

This last weekend I went to a Pride fest a little over an hour away, and wild things ensued.

1. I ran into some friends I met at my local pride this last summer, and even though it took a second for us to recognize each other, it was phenomenal to see them. I ended up staying the night at their place (I'll get to why in a sec).

2. I ran into people I went to Catholic elementary/middle school with. They were running an art booth. It was cool to reconnect with people I'd shared a formative childhood experience with and not be the only one who ended up queer.

3. I ran into my now retired therapist, the one who helped me pursue an autism eval and who wrote the pivotal letter that allowed me to get top surgery. I gave him a hug. I'd only ever interacted with him virtually and he is much taller in person. He seems like he's happy and doing well.

4. I didn't see any furries about so I took it upon myself to don my mascot head, just to gauge the reaction. A lot of people came up to me and got pictures with me, including a mom and her kid who really loves furries. I don't even consider myself a furry; like, I don't participate in the community at all anymore. I just think my fursuit head turned out vvv cute, and I didn't spend around 2 years making it from scratch for it to just collect dust in a closet somewhere. It made me really happy that other people also thought it was cute. It was nice being Spark for a while.

5. I went to a drag show with my friends from the local Pride. We were in the front row. It was so cool to see professionals performing.

6. My friends and I went to an after party at a club. I'd never been to a club before and didn't know what to expect. It wasn't nearly as scary as I thought it would be until the end when the establishment closed and the cops were outside directing folks. While there I ran into someone I was in the Arts Magnet Program with in high school; they were there for their sister-in-law. They told me that whenever I'm ready, other former classmates would probably like to hear from me, and that they'd probably be more accepting of me than I realize.

I didn't achieve my goal of being kissed, but that's okay. I fell in love with my friends in more ways than I care to admit. Nothing more will come of it than friendship, and that's okay too. That's what I needed tbh. I realized the full extent of my loneliness and how badly I need friends right now. I didn't know how bad it was and now that I do, hopefully I can do something about it. I cried a lot, probably because I was more drunk than I've been in years. My friends let me stay at their apartment so I didn't have to sleep in my car.

7. The next day we went to a garden and saw lots of pretty plants and fountains, including the biggest, bluest Larkspurs I've ever seen in person before!!

8. I cried for approximately half of my drive back home. I probably should have pulled over, but I was running on less than an hour of sleep, and I had grad school homework I needed to finish before midnight, so I pushed through. I realized goodbyes have been getting harder. A couple of weekends ago when I visited college friends for the weekend, I cried for a long time on my drive home then too. It seems it didn't take long of being off T for my tear ducts to function again. Something else is wrong with me though, I shouldn't be crying so much over goodbyes; I have my suspicions. I'm sure a particular goodbye that happened more recently isn't helping, but mostly I think I just feel alienated from people like me where I live currently.

I need to get a new vehicle soon so I can travel more. I want to go on dates, both casual and serious, in the near future. I want to kiss and be kissed, if just to feel like I'm alive. I wish I wasn't a terrified kid in a 25 year old's body. I feel like I can't be taken seriously when it comes to romance because of the ways my trauma has broken me into the person I am today (tbf, being transmasc means I look like a 14 year old boy, so that doesn't help the whole maturity thing either).

I'm coming to terms with how much grief I carry with me everyday. I think that's the most alienating part of it all; I think that's where all the loneliness comes from.

Sadness aside, I really like grad school so far. It doesn't feel hard yet because it's all stuff that interests me. I also got a really nice scholarship package for my first year and that's pretty cool. I'll finally feel alright ordering the print copies of my book, Fidelity to share with friends/family. The sequel, Autonomy, is currently in the works. They're both basically zines that ended up being lengthier than initially intended, and they include a mix of poetry, prose, and photography. I know I don't really have a following here, but if it just so happens that you read all the way to this sentence, if you'd like a free pdf of Fidelity, hmu, I'd be happy to send one your way.

Be kind to yourselves, and stay curious,

-Lark

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You know what? I'm about to say it...

I don't like ACRL/ALA's Framework for Information Literacy for Higher Education.

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for whom the glory holes

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I had a thought...I wonder if the reason (besides autism) that I don't look at people often, even my friends, is because of my self disgust.

Rambling below.

The first person I ever knew to be attracted to me...it ended up being something traumatic that forever altered my sexuality. I dated them because I was desperate to feel wanted and I thought they would be the only one who ever wanted me. Looking back, our neurodivergencies clash in a way that would always be strenuous for us, and I don't think much was either of our faults really, even if there are long-lasting impacts for both of us.

That said, my own self disgust existed far before them. I had to go through many rejections, many awkward moments, looks that I understood from others and looks I didn't understand. At a certain point I accepted that I am repulsive. (I am aware now of more accurate adjectives: traumatized, neglected, desperate, neurodivergent, trans, butch, etc.)

I romanticize things easily. It's a coping mechanism. I can find beauty in so many things...beautiful because I appreciate them and/or because I want to be like them. I like having loveliness around me, if only I could be that for others too...if only I weren't so vile.

It feels wrong to look at people. It feels scary. What if they see me admiring them? It would probably be offensive, off-putting at best, because it's me. Or what if they see a layer deeper into me...to the ugliness inside, not just that without? What if gazing at them makes me want them (more) in some way or another? I already have to monitor myself so hard with trying not to cling to anyone who's kind to me or has a pleasant-sounding voice. I'm not allowed. I need to keep my wanting of care, affection, and attention at a minimum because I will always be disappointed.

This is the black hole created in me through neglect and objectification via my parents. I need to be wanted, and am not wantable, so have instead grown attached to needing to be needed.

I would do anything to meet someone who was into me. I would also do anything to meet someone who would simply take me in as part of their family. The two need not overlap.

All of this matters little now as I am largely house and bed bound from chronic illness. But I hadn't thought before about all the reasons I don't look at people. It is interesting to consider...